And the aura of you remains, remains, remains...
Take your foot out of the graveyard, they are busy being dead.
Perhaps I am no one. True, I have a body and I cannot escape from it. I would like to fly out of my head, but that is out of the question.
One can't build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.
The body is a damn hard thing to kill.
I suffer for birds and fireflies but not frogs, she said, and threw him across the room. Kaboom! Like a genie out of a samovar, a handsome prince arose in the corner of the bedroom.